Mercy
by Dee Moyza
Summary: ** Currently on hiatus ** Toughened by the cold and molded by Garden, Selphie is on track to one day become a SeeD. But when she forms a forbidden pact with a powerful creature, she unlocks abilities within herself that not only surpass her wildest dreams, but also make her road to SeeD much more tumultuous. Pre-game through post-game; multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

_***_ **Update (2/22/19):** My progress on other writing projects has taken longer than I expected, and the revisions I had planned for this story have been pushed back indefinitely. I feel that it is best that I officially place this story on hiatus, for the time being. That said, I do not intend to abandon it. I simply need to take some time to revise it and work out a feasible timeline for the plot (going from pre-game to post-game presents a challenging amount of choices of storytelling options that I didn't originally take into consideration). For those of you who have read what's available, thank you for your support and your patience. It may take a while, but this story will be told. ***

* * *

 _(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

* * *

Her first clear memory was of the cold. Cold wind, cold rubble, cold flesh next to hers. She couldn't remember who the flesh belonged to, only that she must have loved this person very much, because she refused to leave them even when hunger pulled at her insides and her torn clothes no longer kept out the chill. She refused to leave when a pair of gloved hands shook her awake and enveloped her in warm, coarse fabric smelling of smoke and dust. And she cried out with all the strength left in her feeble little body when those hands lifted her away, ferrying her to a warm place, and another life.

* * *

"Selphie."

The word was muffled and sounded more like a gurgle, but Selphie recognized enough of her name to turn toward the speaker. She saw the army uniform and thought for a moment it was her father, but the man was too tall to be, and his face was too thin. He held his chin and frowned at her.

"That's what I was afraid of," he said to another man dressed in a white coat and sitting at a desk. "This is Tilmitt's girl."

Selphie couldn't hear the other man's reply. She shook her head to clear her ears, but it did no good. She'd spent the last few days drifting in and out of a deep sleep, half-aware but fully grateful that she could hear very little of what was happening around her.

The man at the desk stood up and she recognized him as a doctor. His stethoscope swung across his chest as he approached her, and he stuck a hard plastic instrument inside Selphie's ear. She yelped and squirmed.

"Her ears are looking good," he said. "She's going to be fine. Her hearing should return completely in the next few days." He sat back and scribbled on a sheet of paper. "Any surviving family?"

"None that we know of. All of Tilmitt's next of kin were in that house – his wife, his mother, his sons. I don't know how this little one survived."

The doctor sighed and turned to face Selphie. He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward, smiling sadly. "Hello, Selphie," he said slowly, exaggerating his mouth movement so that she might read his lips. "I'm Dr. Harmon. How are you feeling today?"

Selphie began to answer him, but found her mouth wasn't working right. It was dry, and it felt like her tongue was coated with dust. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she spoke. "My head hurts," she said. "And my ears are all funny."

Dr. Harmon accepted a cup from the soldier and handed it to her. She drank, feeling the cold water slide down her throat, taking with it the dusty feeling in her mouth. Dr. Harmon nodded. "You took quite a bump to your head," he explained, "and the sound of the explosion hurt your ears. But it looks like you'll make a full recovery."

He checked the bags of intravenous solution hanging next to the bed, and Selphie became aware of the needle sticking in the crook of her arm. She shrieked and began fumbling at the tape holding it in place, managing only to scratch her own skin before the doctor caught her hand. He explained that the needle had to stay there, that that's how she'd been getting her medicine and nutrition.

Selphie let her arms drop and studied the weave in the blanket draped over her legs. She just wanted to go home. She'd only heard bits of what the doctor and soldier had been saying, but she'd caught the word "house," and maybe "mother," too. "I wanna see Mama," she said finally. "I wanna go home."

She looked up when the doctor didn't reply. He turned from her to the soldier and back again, then repositioned himself on his stool. He looked uncomfortable. Selphie felt her stomach tighten and cold sweat gather above her upper lip.

"Selphie, sweetie," he said, lacing and unlacing his fingers. He stammered, glanced at the soldier again, and told her everything.

Selphie cried, tearing at her gown and her hair, trying to kick and bite the doctor and soldier as they tried to restrain her. She fought until she felt a cool surge in her arm, and her world darkened at the edges and dropped away.

* * *

Selphie picked at the sticker on the front of her overalls. She lifted the top corner and examined the green fuzz collected underneath, then found that no matter how hard she pressed on it, that corner no longer stuck to the fabric. Deciding she would go by "elphie" from now on, she gave up on the sticker and looked at the two women talking to each other a few feet away.

Ms. Beaufort was the taller of the two, dressed in a dark gray suit, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. Ms. Beaufort had taken Selphie in for several weeks after Selphie was discharged from the hospital. Ms. Beaufort was kind but distant, and stressed that Selphie's living arrangement was temporary. About a month ago, she came home with a thin folder and two tickets for travel to a place called Centra.

"You'll be living at the orphanage there," she told Selphie. "It won't be scary. There will be other children. Perhaps you can make some new friends."

Ms. Beaufort even brought out a map and showed Selphie where they were headed. Selphie followed Ms. Beaufort's finger as it traced a wandering line down the map from her home on the southern slopes of the Vienne Mountains, wondering where it would stop. When Ms. Beaufort finished marking their route, Selphie's eyes widened. Centra was at the other end of the world.

"It'll take _forever_ to get there," she said.

Ms. Beaufort chuckled. "Several weeks, maybe a month. We'll take a car to the coast, and take a boat the rest of the way. You'll get to see some different places. You might have fun."

"It's so far away. Why do I have to go? Why can't I stay here with you?"

Ms. Beaufort knelt beside Selphie and hugged her. Selphie thought she must have looked really sad for her to do that. Ms. Beaufort held her for a few minutes, whispering reassurances, telling her that the orphanage would take very good care of her, better than Ms. Beaufort could.

The next morning, Selphie walked out of Ms. Beaufort's house, a gray canvas knapsack slung over one shoulder, and boarded the waiting car. As the car took off, Selphie twisted in the back seat and watched her homeland disappear into the fog that tumbled down the mountainside.

Now, Selphie stood on this strange, rocky ground, breathing in the warm ocean air and studying the matron of the orphanage. This woman was small, but beautiful. She was dressed all in black, and her dark hair hung loose past her waist. Two blond children, a boy and a girl, hovered near her, dispersing in a fit of giggles when she waved them back toward the house. Selphie could hear the women's conversation, but it made little sense to her, so she busied herself watching an insect crawling along the ground.

"I've had an influx of orphans from that area recently," the matron said. "Is something going on? Since we've lost radio contact, I haven't been able to keep up with the news."

"Civil skirmishes," Ms. Beaufort replied. "Adel was not well-liked, but she was not universally hated. Some regions and groups did very well under her rule, and they resent the installation of a new government without their input. The elites in Esthar City have isolated themselves and the nearby scientific and military facilities, and while they recognize the tensions in the hinterland, they haven't provided support. They only say that they are in the process of 'smoothing out the wrinkles' in this new government. It doesn't matter to them that these 'wrinkles' often result in innocent civilian casualties."

"This child's family among them."

"She lost them all in two days. Her father was a captain in the army, struck down during a riot that erupted in his hometown. The next day, the rebels commandeered a military vehicle and shelled the town, hitting his house. Selphie was the only survivor."

Selphie heard the matron draw a ragged breath, but when she looked up, the woman smiled. The matron walked over to where Selphie stood and bent to look at her face.

"Hello, Selphie," she said. "My name is Edea Kramer. I'm the matron of this orphanage. It's very nice to meet you."

For some reason, Edea made Selphie feel shy. Selphie looked at the ground and scuffed the toe of her shoe against a protruding rock. "It's nice to meet you, too," she said.

"How old are you?"

"Three."

Edea opened the folder Ms. Beaufort had given her. "I see your birthday is in July. What luck! It's only a few months away, so perhaps you will spend it here with the other children." She took Selphie's hand and straightened. The two of them walked back to Ms. Beaufort, who placed her hands on Selphie's shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"You'll be just fine, Selphie," she told her. "Remember that you are strong." She squeezed Selphie's shoulders and kissed the top of her head before picking her way across the rocky landscape to the beach and boarding the waiting vessel without a backwards glance.

As they watched the boat move out to sea, Edea tugged Selphie's hand. "What do you say we go meet the other children?"

Inside the front gate, the orphanage was abuzz with activity. Children shouted and laughed, darted behind walls and perched on short, broken pillars. They gradually quieted and drew near as Selphie walked in. She recognized the two blond children from before. The boy looked at her, shrunk away, and turned to run, but the girl caught him by his suspenders and pulled him back. An older girl, about eight or nine, with short dark hair, stepped out from behind the others and smiled. A smaller dark-haired boy trailed at her heels, hanging back slightly and eyeing Selphie warily.

"Hello," the older girl said. "My name is Ellone. A lot of the kids call me Sis, like big sister. And you are –" Ellone peered at Selphie's name badge, smoothing out the curled edge – "Selphie! Welcome."

"Thank you." Selphie's eyes flitted from one curious face to the next. So, this would be her family, for the time being. She wondered if these kids would want to be her friends. She feared they might tease her, that they might all hate her. She feared – _no_ , she shouldn't fear anything. She was Selphie Tilmitt, she was _strong_ , even Ms. Beaufort said so. Selphie straightened and gave everyone her widest smile. "I'm Selphie Tilmitt," she declared loudly, "and I like to play tag and hide and seek and lots and lots of pretend! We can be friends!"

Ellone laughed and the other children began speaking over one another, waving and shouting greetings. Taking Selphie's hand from Edea's, Ellone guided her toward the group, out of the shadows and into the warm morning sunlight. The air smelled of earth and sea and flowers. "Here," Ellone said, "let me introduce you to everyone."

* * *

As Selphie came to know the children at the orphanage, she gravitated toward a small group made up mostly of children her own age, several of whom she'd noticed when she first arrived. The two blond children who had been playing near Matron that day were Quistis and Zell. Quistis was nice enough, but she always tried to act much older than she was. She looked up to Ellone and tried to be like her, but where Ellone was patient and sisterly, Quistis was easily frustrated and often bossy. Zell, on the other hand, was as skittish as a wild animal. Nearly everything frightened him, and his reactions were so predictably dramatic that he became the constant target of the resident bully, a boy named Seifer. When he was calm, though, Selphie found that he was fun to play with, mainly because he never said her ideas were boring or stupid.

The dark-haired boy who followed Ellone everywhere was named Squall. He was very quiet, more of an observer than a participant. He hovered at the edges of the little group, his big blue eyes taking in every detail, every gesture, every word spoken. Since he clung to Ellone more than the other children, Selphie wondered whether they were actually related, but all Ellone said when she asked was, "Kind of." Selphie was able to get Squall to talk with her a few times, but only when none of the other children were around. He seemed very shy.

Then there was Irvine. Irvine was mischievous. If there was trouble, he would find it, then try to charm his way out of it, usually by telling Matron how lovely she looked that day as she bandaged the cuts and scrapes he'd sustained in his latest misadventure. The small success rate of his method never stopped him from trying again the next time. But his adventurousness made him an ideal playmate for Selphie, and Selphie soon found that he would readily do her bidding, no matter how foolish or dangerous her request. She used this to her advantage several times to procure extra sweets from the pantry, which she successfully hid under her bed until the ants found them, and her feet.

Adjusting to her new life, Selphie felt the warmth come back into her heart. Her new friends, and her new adventures with them, helped push her painful memories to the back of her mind. She still woke up crying sometimes, from a dream so vivid she could feel her mother's arms again, but morning light always chased those shadows away. Her world was so vibrant now, so full of life, that there was no room left in it for tears.

* * *

Enjoying the sun and the seafoam, the flowers and the trees, Selphie did not notice the cold chipping away at the edges of her new life until it found its way in.

Matron had taken ill. Squall said he had seen her talking to a strange man dressed in black the day before, and that night she screamed herself awake several times. She tried to convince the children the next morning that she had only a minor illness; a cold, perhaps. But Selphie saw the way her hands trembled as she pulled a shawl around her shoulders, and the blue tinge creeping around her eyes and lips looked like symptoms of something far worse.

Matron left Ellone in charge of the other children and returned to her room. Along the way, she stumbled and placed her hand against the wall to steady herself. When she removed it, her handprint remained, glistening as frost upon the stone. The children crowded around the handprint, examining it. Irvine angled his head and moved closer, reaching toward it.

"Don't touch that!" Ellone cried, but it was too late. Irvine shrieked and recoiled, holding his hand to his chest. Ellone pushed the others aside and took his hand in hers. The middle finger of his right hand was already blue, and the color was spreading rapidly. Ellone grabbed a nearby dishcloth and wrapped his hand in it, breathing on the towel and leading him to the stove, instructing him to hold his hand above it for warmth. She unwrapped his hand and Selphie could see that the blue had already reached his wrist. Ellone gasped and ran to the next room, from where the children heard her rummaging through the cupboards. She returned with one of Matron's elixirs. She poured a small amount of the elixir on the towel and rubbed it over Irvine's hand, then told him to drink the rest. Irvine ceased howling long enough to swallow the elixir, and no sooner had he finished, than the blue receded from his hand.

Ellone sighed and looked at the others, who had been watching in stunned silence. Irvine still whimpered beside her, more from fright now that the effects of the magic were wearing off. Selphie heard shuffling behind her and turned when Matron entered the room.

"What happened?" she asked. "Who's hurt?"

"It's Irvine, Matron," Quistis piped up, and the rest of the children joined in with their own excited tales of what had just occurred.

"He's all right," Ellone shouted over the clamor. "He's fine now, but I had to use one of your elixirs, Matron. I'm very sorry."

"Not at all, Ellone. That's why they are there." Matron looked confused until Seifer spoke up.

"The big dummy nearly froze his hand off," he said. "All because he touched that."

Matron followed Seifer's finger and shivered when she saw the handprint on the wall. She stepped back and Selphie got a good look at her face. Matron's eyebrows twitched rapidly, her expression alternating between horror and mirth, and small purple lines crept across her skin from her hairline. Her eyes darted around the room and Selphie thought she saw them change color, flashing bright yellow for an instant. The others must have seen it, too, because they backed away from Matron, moving toward Ellone for comfort.

"No," Matron whispered, then collected herself and turned toward the frightened group. "Children, it seems I am more ill than I thought. Nothing terrible, but I will need to rest. Cid will be returning this evening, but until then, I must ask you to play quietly and listen to Ellone. I will see you later tonight, I promise." She tried to smile at them, but it became a grimace, her face a grotesque mask that chilled Selphie's heart. Matron disappeared into her room and the children dispersed, albeit with downcast eyes and shuffling feet.

When Cid returned and Ellone told him what had happened, he rushed into Matron's room without greeting anyone else. Selphie snuck close enough to the door to hear them speaking to one another, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Irvine and Zell hovered nearby, and the three of them scattered when the doorknob turned and Cid emerged. To Selphie's surprise, he did not scold them; he just looked at them absently, then called for Ellone.

Dinner was late that evening, and Selphie had resorted to chewing on blades of grass to trick her stomach into thinking she was having a meal. Matron joined them at the table, looking more like her old self. Ellone, on the other hand, looked pale, and merely picked at her plate despite not having eaten any more than the other children had. She hugged each of them in turn that night, holding them tighter and longer than she ever had, telling them to be strong. Selphie's throat tightened; she'd heard those words before, and she learned that they were just another way of saying goodbye.

Her fear was realized some days later, when she and the others stood in Ellone's room, staring at the bare mattress on the bed, looking for, but finding no sign that Ellone had ever been there.

* * *

Ellone's absence changed life at the orphanage, and Selphie's close group began to fracture. Though everyone missed Ellone terribly, Squall seemed completely heartbroken. He wandered away from the orphanage for hours each afternoon, searching for her, only to return discouraged. His sadness caught Seifer's attention, and Seifer abandoned teasing Zell in favor of this new project. Quiet though he was, Squall could be provoked into fighting back, and it wasn't long before his run-ins with Seifer became physical.

Quistis, trying hard to fill Ellone's role as big sister, would break up these fights, often stepping in front of Squall to shield him from Seifer. This only made both boys angry with her, and after each fight, Selphie saw the three of them walking in different directions, each equally dejected.

One cloudy afternoon, Seifer and Squall had a particularly nasty fight. Selphie joined the ring of children that had gathered around them, listening to the boys' muffled grunts and the dull smack of knuckles on skin. They were in a heap on the sand by the time Quistis pushed her way through the crowd, grabbed Squall by the arm, and pulled him away.

Seifer sat up, wiped the blood from his cut lip with the back of his hand, and laughed. "Look at this baby," he said, "can't even fight for himself. He needs a _girl_ to save him!" When the other children remained silent, he only laughed louder.

Meanwhile, Squall struggled free from Quistis' grip. He was biting his lower lip and his fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. He glared at Quistis and flung his arm out, driving her back. "Leave me alone," he shouted. "You just make everything worse. You're not Sis. Stop trying to be her!" He turned and ran in the direction of the lighthouse, leaving Seifer laughing and Quistis in tears.

As the afternoon dragged on, and the orphanage quieted down, Selphie noticed that Squall hadn't come back. She had felt bad watching him get beaten up and then teased, so she stuffed an extra stick of candy in her pocket and walked down the beach to look for him. Reaching the base of the lighthouse with no luck, she began to climb over the rocks next to it.

Breathing hard, her little fingers scraped raw, Selphie hauled herself onto the largest boulder in front of her and looked down. There, perched on a flat rock and looking out to sea, sat Squall. Selphie grinned.

"Ha!" she said. "Found you!"

"Go away."

"Come on. I brought you candy. Irvy helped me steal some. It's peppermint." She held up the sugary stick. Squall turned around, looked at it, and made a face.

"It's all fuzzy from your pocket."

Selphie inspected the candy and pulled off bits of green lint. "So you don't want it?" Squall shook his head. Selphie shrugged and put the candy in her mouth. Knowing better than to head back while eating a stolen treat, she slid down the gravel slope and sat next to Squall. He didn't move. She could see a big reddish-purple mark blooming on his left cheek, and a little bit of dried blood where his skin had split against the bone.

"Why'd you get so mad at Quisty today?" she asked. "She wanted to help you."

"She treats me like a baby." Squall flung a small stone into the waves below. "I don't need her takin' care of me. I gotta be strong, all by myself, so I can find Sis."

Selphie nodded, munching a chunk of candy. "Yeah, I gotta be strong, too." Squall looked at her. She continued, "Matron thinks I forgot my family, 'cause I don't talk about them. But I didn't. We had a pretty house, and it was me and Mama and Daddy and Grandma and my two brothers. I miss them a lot, but they can't come back. Sometimes I'm sad, but I can't do anything. So I just hafta be strong!"

Squall frowned. "But you don't act sad. You're always laughing."

"That's 'cause I don't like crying."

His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up, but he quickly turned back toward the sea and sighed. "I don't like laughing."

Selphie giggled at this and he glared at her. She finished her peppermint stick and licked her fingers, then got up and dusted the seat of her overalls. The sun was dipping lower behind the clouds, and soon the lighthouse keeper would light the beacon. Selphie turned and clambered back up the rock, and after a moment, Squall left his sulking to follow.

When they reached the beach, Selphie smiled at him. "Race ya!"

"That's stupid," Squall replied, but when she ran ahead, he broke into a run, too. Selphie knew he hated games, but he hated losing more, and when he passed her, she saw a corner of his mouth pulled up in the faintest of grins.

* * *

As the days grew shorter and the flowers faded, the little group broke apart, child by child. A rich-looking couple came to adopt Quistis, and a few days later, Cid disappeared with both Seifer and Squall. A man and a woman with wind-roughened skin and easy smiles took Zell home as their own. The orphanage became very quiet, and noises Selphie had hardly noticed before – wind blowing through empty rooms, creaking door hinges – suddenly felt spooky, as if the building itself was crying for the children it had lost.

All of this upheaval dampened Irvine's mischievous nature, and when an important-looking man in a blue and gold coat handed him a suitcase and told him to pack, he meekly followed orders. Finally, just before the beginning of winter, a man and a woman dressed in fur-lined coats arrived for Selphie. Matron made pleasant conversation with them, but Selphie could tell she was struggling to smile. When the strangers slipped a coat onto Selphie and led her toward a waiting boat, Matron stood at the orphanage door and waved, but offered no hug or kiss farewell.

The strangers introduced themselves as instructors at a new school, where Selphie would study and live from now on. They assured Selphie that she would love her new home, and told her there would be more children there than at the orphanage, and that there would be clubs to join and classes to focus on. She would soon forget about the orphanage altogether, they said, and, remembering how painful it had been to lose her second family, Selphie agreed this would be a good thing.

Their boat sailed north from the orphanage, retracing the route that Selphie had taken to get there, and she hoped they would stop somewhere warm and green, where the sunlight could melt her sadness away again. But her hope faded as they passed harbor after harbor and the breezes took on sharp, chill edges. She thought she might cry when, one morning, she looked out the porthole next to her little bunk and saw chunks of ice floating in the dark water. She shook the tears away and dressed, retrieving her coat from the bottom of her knapsack.

When the boat docked at a frozen beach, Selphie hesitated. The frosty air stung her eyes and made her cheeks burn. She heard the mixture of sand and ice crunching beneath the instructors' boots and she shivered. But when the female instructor turned back and offered her hand, Selphie straightened and accepted it, breathing in deeply, realizing then that she would never escape the cold.


	2. Chapter 2

The length of tape fluttered as Selphie walked down the hall. It coiled around her fingers and stuck to the back of her hand. Frustrated, Selphie straightened it out and stuck it to the tip of her nose for the rest of her brief journey.

Marcy stood in front of the door to the dorm room she shared with Selphie, holding two construction-paper chocobos. She snatched the tape off Selphie's nose, ignoring Selphie's surprised squeak.

"Finally!" Marcy said. "Where'd you have to go for this, Balamb?"

Selphie rubbed her nose. "Just the upperclassmen wing. No one on this floor had any."

"I'm surprised they let you have some." Marcy grabbed the edge of the tape with her teeth and ripped it in half, handing one piece to Selphie, along with the chocobo that bore her name.

"A bunch of them were having a discussion about classes or tests or something. One of them just pulled a long piece of tape off for me and told me to leave."

"I wonder if we'll be like that when we're upperclassmen."

Selphie slapped her chocobo onto the door at a careless angle. "Hey brats!" she said in a snooty voice. "We're upper classmen now, you kids don't deserve to breathe the same _air_ as us. Get lost!" Both girls laughed and stepped back to admire their decorations before entering their room.

Selphie flung her jacket over the back of her desk chair and flopped down on her bed, retrieving a small notebook from beneath the pillow. She turned to a fresh page and scrawled the date along the top line, then paused to gather her thoughts, gnawing on her pencil.

"Do you have to do that every day?" Marcy asked. She pulled a book with a well-worn spine out from the shelf beside her bed. "It's not like anything exciting happened today."

"Something exciting happens _every_ day, some things just aren't as big as others. Life's an adventure!" When Marcy shrugged, Selphie put down her pencil and sat up. "Listen, I don't remember it real good, but when I was really little, I lost my whole family at once. Then I went to an orphanage, but that didn't last long, either. And even though I've been here eight years and I love it, I'm kinda scared this'll all disappear, too. So, I want to write it all down, 'cause I don't want to forget anything about my life now."

"I guess that makes sense. I'm just not as creative as you, Selphie. Some days really are boring to me."

"You just gotta know how to look at 'em." Selphie picked up her pencil again. "Let's see. 'Today, Marcy and me needed some tape…'"

* * *

Limit testing was the shadow that stalked every twelve-year-old at Trabia Garden, and Selphie awaited her turn with uncharacteristic dread. She'd begun combat training when she was six years old and had begun working with her weapon of choice at eight, so she was not worried that she lacked skill. Rather, she was worried about how the faculty was going to _test_ her skill. She'd heard the tales from older students, how they were forced to battle to the brink of death, to find out which of them would experience an increase in skills at that point – a phenomenon called a Limit Break. Students who had a Limit Break had an advantage when applying to the SeeD training program; those who didn't were guided toward studies more useful in support roles, such as mechanics or logistics.

Selphie wanted to excel, so that she might someday wear the uniform that commanded so much respect within the Garden. More than future success, however, right now she just wanted to avoid what she felt was unnecessary pain. When a female SeeD knocked on her door one morning, to escort her to the testing area, Selphie felt ill. She dawdled for as long as she dared, and finally slung her nunchaku over her shoulder and smiled weakly at Marcy. "Well, I guess this is it," she said. "Good luck on _your_ test. See you later, all right?"

Marcy nodded and wished her luck, aware her turn was coming soon.

Selphie followed the SeeD down the hallway, trying to synchronize her footsteps with the SeeD's to keep her mind off what awaited her at the end of this walk. When they reached the doors to the auditorium, the SeeD stopped and turned to Selphie.

"Well, Tilmitt," she said, "this is it. I know it's scary, but it's over a lot sooner than you think, and there are a lot of people on hand to make sure you survive." She held out her hand. "Good luck."

Selphie looked at the SeeD's hand for a moment before accepting her handshake. This felt so formal, so _mature_ , like a step toward adulthood. Selphie felt her fear fade a little, replaced by a warmth that she recognized as pride.

And then the SeeD opened the door.

A blast of cold air rushed into the hallway, raising goosebumps on Selphie's arms and legs. As she stepped through the doorway, she noticed strange new flooring on the lowest level of the auditorium, and a bank of computers and medical equipment in the wings, partitioned off by a tall metal gate. The first few rows of seats were covered with large tarps, and the whole room smelled strongly of a disinfectant that could not completely mask the scent of blood. Selphie wanted to turn around and run from the auditorium, but the SeeD stood in the doorway, watching her impassively.

Selphie sighed and walked down the center aisle, to where several members of the medical team awaited her. They moved quickly, one of them pricking her finger, drawing a blood sample to confirm her identity; another affixing electrodes to her temples and upper chest; and yet another running a scan through those electrodes and removing all of Selphie's stocked spells, save for three of each element and three cure spells. When she had been prepared to their approval, they ushered her to the other side of the gate and slammed it shut behind her.

"Please state your name and student identification number." Selphie jumped at the unexpected request. She looked out at the seats, squinting into the lights, and saw a group of faculty members sitting in the front row of the balcony. The one in the middle seat repeated his request. Selphie turned to face him and saluted.

"Selphie Tilmitt, Student Number 41438."

"Cadet Tilmitt, are you prepared to engage in a test of your abilities?"

What choice did she have? "Yes, sir."

"You have been stripped of all but the necessary spells and equipment. Once the battle begins, you are to fight until you either dispatch the enemy or fall unconscious. Should the latter occur, we have two SeeD members on hand to finish the battle and see to your safety." He adjusted the papers on his clipboard. "Do you understand the terms of your examination?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Good luck to you, Tilmitt."

Selphie saw two SeeDs walk down the far aisle toward the lower double-door exit, and when they opened the doors, she could hear animals outside, snarling and stomping, and the sound of something hard scraping across metal. Her mouth went dry and her limbs grew hot as two Mesmerizes kicked free of their cage and charged through the open doors.

They both stopped several feet away from Selphie, as if they were debating whether to attack. Selphie decided she'd best focus on one Mesmerize at a time, and she ran through her diminished spell stock in her mind. These odd horses had no elemental weaknesses, she remembered, but they weren't particularly resistant to any elements, either. She hoped she could dispatch one Mesmerize with the spells in her inventory, before moving in close to take out the second. And so, she began, casting a Fire spell, then jumping backwards to avoid being slashed.

The main disadvantage to Selphie's strategy was that magic did not damage the blades protruding from the Mesmerizes' foreheads, which the monsters used for ranged attacks. Selphie had taken damage from several of these attacks by the time she finished off the first Mesmerize, and had only one curative spell left when she turned to face the other.

She wiped her bleeding nose with the back of her hand and adjusted her grip on her nunchaku. She took a deep breath and hopped forward, flailing her weapon and hearing it connect with a satisfying crack. She dodged the counterattack and moved in again. This time, her hit elicited a sharp pinging sound, and her heartbeat quickened when she saw the Mesmerize blade fall to the floor. Figuring she had the upper hand, she cast her final healing spell.

The Mesmerize was momentarily stunned, shaking its head and staggering. But in the time it took Selphie to heal herself, it had regained its composure, and it launched itself at her. Selphie flew backwards from the hit and landed hard, the air forced from her lungs. She heard footsteps at the edge of the auditorium floor and knew that the SeeDs were moving in to take this battle from her. It would be so easy to give it to them, but doing so would mean that she might never join their ranks. She pushed herself up and stood, doubled-over and breathing raggedly, to face the monster. The Mesmerize snorted and stomped a front hoof. Selphie Tilmitt would go down fighting.

As she held her ground, Selphie noticed a tingling sensation in the back of her head, similar to the feeling she had with a full stock of spells. Perhaps she'd miscounted the ones she used earlier. She forced herself to focus, and when her mind skimmed past the first-level elemental spells she'd been carrying, she discovered she could cast Firaga. And not just once, either. Confused but desperate, Selphie unleashed the high-level spell three times in quick succession on the Mesmerize. The creature slumped, but did not go down completely.

Selphie was vaguely aware of the chatter coming from the balcony, but she pressed on, scanning her memory for any spell she might have once learned. She decided on a Tornado spell, cast it twice, and watched the Mesmerize fall.

When she was sure it wasn't getting up, and thus, began to relax, a violent shiver overtook her. Her whole body shook, but she gave a sharp laugh and tried to strike a triumphant pose. She glanced up at the balcony, and her gaze continued upward to the ceiling as she fell to the floor. The lights above her flared, and she closed her eyes against them, drifting out of consciousness.

* * *

Selphie tucked into her third bowl of chocolate ice cream that afternoon, dribbling some on the front of her hospital gown. She might have gotten roughed up during her limit test, but, as far as she was concerned, Garden made it up to her very well. "Whatever she wants," was the order sent to the cafeteria on her behalf, at least while she was recovering in the infirmary, and Selphie took full advantage of it. She was actually disappointed when the nurse told her she would be discharged the following day, and she made it her mission to cram as many sweets as possible into her body until then.

Her infirmary stay was not without worry, however, since she had not heard from Marcy since the day of her test. Selphie figured that Marcy would have been tested shortly after herself, and even expected to meet her in the infirmary. To quell the darker possibilities that sprang to mind, Selphie instead chose to believe that Marcy hadn't been called to testing, and would be waiting for her in their dorm room when Selphie returned.

Selphie was partly right. When she entered her dorm room, Marcy was sitting cross-legged on her own bed, leaning against the wall, tissues and crumpled notebook papers scattered around her. Marcy looked up at Selphie with a sad smile and held out an envelope.

"What's wrong?" Selphie asked, leaning her nunchaku against her bed.

"Nothing much." Marcy shook the envelope at Selphie. "This came for you yesterday. I think it's your results."

Selphie brightened and took the envelope. She opened it and read the letter inside, then let out a celebratory whoop and jumped up and down.

"I have one!" she shouted. "I have a Limit Break! Whoo-hoo! I was worried when I passed out at the end of battle, but that was after I defeated the second Mesmerize, and anyway, I was doing some weird stuff with magic then, and …" Selphie stopped herself when she noticed Marcy wasn't sharing in the celebration. She put the letter back in the envelope and sat down on Marcy's bed.

"Come on, Marcy," she said. "What's wrong? They didn't test you yet? Don't worry, I'm sure they'll get around to it."

"No, they tested me."

Selphie felt her chest tighten. "And?"

"Nothing. They found nothing." Marcy scowled and looked toward the window. "They sent these two Mesmerizes at me from out of nowhere, and I tried … I really, really tried, but I just got weaker and weaker and nothing special happened." She covered her face with her hands. "It was so embarrassing. I got knocked out, and the SeeDs had to finish the battle for me. They revived me and I spent a night in the infirmary, then I was just sent back here, no explanations, nothing."

"I'm so sorry," Selphie said. What else could she say? Here she was, just a moment ago, celebrating her achievement in front of someone who had failed. She took Marcy's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Marcy laughed – a dry huff of air with no happiness behind it – and wiped her eyes with her free hand. "Oh, don't listen to me, I'm just a sore loser, I guess." She tried to smile. "We should be celebrating your test results. Tell me, what _is_ your Limit Break?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I think I'm able to use spells I don't even have, as long as I've learned them before. I can even use them more than once at a time."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, but they say it's going to take –" Selphie looked at the letter "— 'development.' I'm gonna have to work with the faculty on this, so it's not all flowers and sunshine."

Marcy pulled her hand free and picked at the fibers of her blanket. "You know what really bothered me about not having a Limit Break? It means I'll never be a SeeD."

"That's not true! Students with Limit Breaks might have an advantage with the program, but you can still apply."

"It'd just be a waste of time. What I really meant is that _because_ I'll never be a SeeD, we're going to drift apart. You'll be training, and I'll be stuck here studying mechanics or technology."

"There's still a few years before that starts." Selphie stared at the floor, conflicted over whether her test results were a good thing for her friendship. "We'll still find plenty of chances to hang out together."

Marcy was silent, and Selphie began to think, trying to find a positive angle on the situation. Why couldn't a SeeD candidate be a mechanic, too? She grinned and slapped the mattress. "Hey," she said, "tell you what. I'm gonna take some of your classes, too! It'll be useful for a SeeD to know how to work on machines or program a computer, anyway. We'll be the mech and tech girls around here! What d'ya say?" Selphie held out her hand.

Marcy raised an eyebrow. "Mech and tech?" She thought for a moment, then smiled and shook Selphie's hand. "Sounds good to me!"

* * *

Selphie took a sip from the glass of water in front of her and swung her legs from the too-high chair. She couldn't answer the questions she'd been asked all morning, and at this point, she was hoping her silence would make the faculty members give up.

No such luck. "You have no idea where those Tornado spells came from?" a woman asked her. This woman had introduced herself as Dr. Harkinnen, Director of Combat Skills Development at Trabia Garden. She was very serious, and Selphie wondered if she ever smiled at all. If _any_ of the faculty smiled at all. She looked at the men and women seated on the other side of the table, some of them wearing the official robes and others in dark gray uniforms with glittering insignia, and shook her head.

Dr. Harkinnen sighed and turned to the man on her right. "And you say your medical team found no answers either, Dr. Agustin?"

Dr. Agustin shuffled some papers in front of him, pulling one to the top of the stack. "My team followed protocol regarding spell removal before the test, and scans before and after the examination show that. However, as we monitored Tilmitt's brain activity _during_ the test, we noticed an anomaly." He drew a large circle on the paper. "You can see a significant increase in activity near the end of Tilmitt's examination, which coincides with her strange behavior, but does not resemble the pattern we see when subjects use normally-stocked spells."

Dr. Harkinnen asked Dr. Agustin more questions, but Selphie's thoughts drifted away. She looked at the clock and noticed she'd been in this room for three hours already, and she would likely miss her Music Club meeting. And she'd practiced so hard all week!

"Tilmitt!" Dr. Harkinnen again. "Please try to focus. Can you tell us _anything_ about what happened during your test? Did you feel different than usual, see or hear anything strange?" Dr. Harkinnen spoke softly, but Selphie saw the pen she held bend, the plastic turning white in the middle.

"Like I told you before, ma'am," Selphie said, "I just felt a strange tingling in my head. It felt like I had a whole bunch of spells in there, and when I tried to pull one out, a lot of other ones just ran through my mind."

"Had you used any of them before?"

"Once or twice. I learned Firaga on a camping trip, to keep the fire burning. And Tornado –" Selphie bit her lip, suddenly self-conscious – "I talked some upperclassmen into letting me try it once. They took my desserts for a week." She hunkered down, waiting for a reprimand.

"Interesting. I don't believe we've seen a Limit Break like yours, at least not at Trabia Garden." Dr. Harkinnen pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, scribbled something on it, and slid it across the table to Selphie. "I will help you develop your skill. Meet me here every Wednesday at noon."

"But that's when my Music Club meets!"

"SeeD produces mercenaries, not bards. You will show up for your weekly training sessions, on time and prepared, or you will be missing many more activities in the future."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. You are free to go, Tilmitt. I look forward to working with you."

Selphie slid off her chair and exited the room. No more Music Club … her training couldn't last forever, could it? She peeked into a classroom to check the time, and her mood lifted. She could still make the last half of this week's meeting! She crumpled Dr. Harkinnen's note and shoved it in her pocket, then began walking toward her room, and her guitar, as quickly as she could without being cited for running through the halls.

* * *

Sunlight came late to Trabia Garden. In summer, by the time the shadows of the mountains receded, it was nearly noon; in winter, whole days passed without a ray of direct light. That's what made outdoor training so exciting for Selphie. She and her classmates would gear up, head out before dawn, and be far from Trabia Garden by the time the sun rose.

When the first patches of sunlight glared off the snow, the students rushed toward them and basked in the rays. It was an unofficial ritual, unspoken but shared among all Trabian students, and even some of the accompanying SeeDs participated. As her face warmed, Selphie shrugged off her coat, welcoming the morning chill, and watched the others do the same. When she'd first arrived in Trabia, she'd sworn to embrace the cold, to make it a part of her and not something to be feared. Through repeated exposure, she had done that. All of them had. Orphan or no, Selphie thought, they were all children of the frozen earth.

"You all look like a bunch of damn lizards," Professor Ratliff said, striding through the group and administering punches to a few arms in passing. "Gather up, we're not here to sunbathe."

Selphie rolled up her coat and attached it to her backpack. It felt good to be away from Garden. She had spent the last four months working with Dr. Harkinnen, and a lot of her free time mastering new spells. She had already progressed through the high-level elementals, and hoped that once she learned the so-called "forbidden" spells – powerful non-elementals – Dr. Harkinnen would ease up on her a bit. She missed her friends and her activities, and didn't want to end up as dry and bitter as the faculty.

"Now that you've all charged your batteries," Professor Ratliff continued, "here are your orders. I will be putting you together with another student and one SeeD member for support, and you will engage in a variety of timed challenges." He went down the roster, pairing up students seemingly at random, and Selphie found herself stuck with Norwood Lawrence, a skinny boy who, while a good shot with his rifle, was neither fast nor particularly strong. Selphie rolled her eyes and wondered whether she might actually have to use her Limit Break to get through this session.

The morning passed with basic challenges: scavenge so many supplies, pass through a marked course undetected, administer first aid to a "wounded" partner. After a lunch of grain bars and dried fish, the students gathered to receive their next assignment.

Professor Ratliff gestured to the students' weapons. "The rest of the challenges for today involve battles, so make sure you're warmed up." He paused to let the students stretch and inspect their weapons. "The first battle challenge is simple: you have one hour to dispatch ten monsters. But I'm not just going to take your word, or even that of your SeeD support. In order to receive full credit for completing this assignment, you must return with one item from each monster you kill. Ten monsters, ten items, one hour." He glanced at his watch. "Starting now."

"Too easy," Selphie said. She nudged Norwood in the ribs, causing him to jump. "Let's go look for some Gaylas. Ten vials of Mystery Fluid and we're done."

That was also the plan of every other student, and soon Selphie reluctantly headed toward the plains in search of other monsters, Norwood and their frustrated support SeeD following.

Battle after battle, the SeeD stood to the side, arms crossed, biting his lower lip. He was prohibited from giving advice or assistance; his only responsibility was to make sure no cadets died during training. He watched Selphie and Norwood make novice mistakes and clumsily flail at monsters, and stomped his boots in the snow.

With eight items in their possession and time running out, the two cadets felled a pair of Mesmerizes and began to search the corpses for loot. When one corpse turned up nothing, the SeeD broke his silence.

"The blade," he said. "That's the item. You have to cut off the blade. Tilmitt, you go search the other one; Lawrence, start cutting."

Selphie ran to the other Mesmerize and began patting it down. She couldn't feel the bulge where it would have stored Healing Water, and she began to panic, combing through its coat in search of a Life Ring instead. She found it, wedged in the bottom of the creature's hoof. As she pried the ring out with the tip of her pocketknife, she heard the SeeD shouting in frustration behind her.

"Dammit, Lawrence, your knife is dull! How could you forget to sharpen it? No wonder it won't cut!"

Selphie smirked as she listened to Norwood's tear-choked apology and the continued grumblings of the SeeD. She pulled her own large knife from its sheath on her belt and tried its serrated edge on the blade of the Mesmerize before her, making a small pile of dust as she sawed through. She was turning around to go help Norwood when something strange caught her eye. She bent over the Mesmerize to get a closer look.

A pink mist rose from the downed monster's flank, swirling and sparkling in the sunlight. It spread across the monster's midsection, but did not rise further. Selphie thought she saw a shape inside of it, like a tiny Mesmerize, but not quite. This horse had a longer mane and tail, and the protrusion from its forehead was twisted and gently curved, more horn than blade. Wondering whether it was real, Selphie reached out to touch the image in the mist.

A sudden warmth rushed through her fingers, up her arm and down into her chest. Selphie inhaled deeply as she recognized a sensation she'd felt long, long ago, of being held tightly by someone who cared, of being loved. She smiled as the warmth surged upward, filling her mind.

"Such a heavy heart for one so young." A voice echoed in Selphie's head, soft and feminine. "I can help you, would you allow it."

"Would I allow…?" Selphie opened her eyes a crack, and swayed from side to side. "Who are you?"

A soft chuckle. "I am Eir."

"Eir," Selphie repeated. She suddenly felt very sleepy. She lay down on the dead Mesmerize, feeling its rough hair against her cheek, its cold muscles already hardening beneath her. "What are you?"

"I am kindness, I am mercy. I am what your people call a Guardian Force."

Selphie forced her eyes open. Guardian Force? Those were what SeeDs used to give them strength in battle. It's what set them apart from other fighters. What was one doing out here? And what if…? Selphie pondered the implications of her discovery. If she did accept this, this _Eir_ , maybe she could get a bit of advance SeeD training, give herself an edge when she entered the program proper.

"Well?" Eir asked. "Have you made up your mind, Selphie?"

"You know my name?"

"It doesn't take me long to find things out. I can find out much more about you, help you heal that hurt within." Eir paused. "Have you decided? May I stay?"

Eir's voice was gentle in Selphie's mind, and made her feel secure. Selphie shrugged against the hide of the fallen Mesmerize. "Why not?" she murmured, wincing at a quick stabbing pain in her head that she instinctively understood as Eir settling in. Selphie's drowsiness intensified. "You can stay, Eir. We'll have lots of fun … lots of adventures …"

"Tilmitt!" The SeeD jerked Selphie to her feet. "What the hell are you doing? Sleeping on a corpse?"

Selphie blinked. Her mind felt fuzzy, and when she shook her head, the pangs of discomfort she felt convinced her that Eir had not been a dream. She grinned at the SeeD and held up the Life Ring she'd found. "I wasn't asleep. I just had to look really close for this."

The SeeD sighed and shook his head. "Well, you got it. Now, you and Lawrence hurry up and get your asses back to base!"

Selphie picked up her nunchaku and suppressed a giggle. No one had to know what she'd really found. It'd be her own little secret.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt Eir laugh, too.


	3. Chapter 3

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

Selphie thought having a GF would be a lot more interesting. Aside from a steady buzzing in her head, which she had gotten used to after a week or so, she didn't feel any different at all. Her strength, and that of her spells, remained the same, and for something called a _Guardian_ Force, Eir did nothing to lessen the damage Selphie received from enemies. When Selphie complained about this to Eir, Eir placed the blame solely on her.

"Since the moment you junctioned me," Eir explained, "you have had the ability to augment your stamina through magic."

"You mean, juctioning spells?" Selphie had heard the SeeDs and upperclassmen talk about this, particularly before heading into the field, but to her, it was a vague concept shrouded in confusing jargon.

"Precisely."

"Oh. I haven't learned how to do that yet."

"Then, please, reserve your frustration for yourself. I am doing all I can. The rest is up to you."

Embarrassed by Eir's scolding, Selphie refrained from contacting her for a while. Eir seemed content with the relative silence, settling deeper into Selphie's mind, expanding her presence therein.

Selphie had to admit, however, that Eir was making good on her promise to ease Selphie's pain. Already, the sadness that Selphie carried within her had dulled, growing numb by small, but noticeable, degrees. The faces in her memory faded, like an old photograph left in the sun, and her concept of a home blurred. She was aware that she'd lived somewhere else before she'd gone to the orphanage, and she remembered that place was cold, but beyond that, the details eluded her. This didn't trouble her; she enjoyed the lightness that came with forgetting, and if she ever needed to remember, she was certain she'd written about that place, and the people who'd lived there, in one of her journals.

Her mind thus unburdened and becoming clearer by the day, Selphie tackled her studies with renewed vigor. Subjects that had once bored her suddenly became fascinating, and she devoured her texts the way a starved waif might eat bread, hoarding facts and taking notes quicker than she could legibly write. Complex formulae excited her, and previously obscure connections between concepts leapt off the page, making her wonder to what extent her grief had clouded her mind.

Her instructors seemed to appreciate the new Selphie, and even Dr. Harkinnen commented on the change.

"I must commend you, Tilmitt," she said, "for your performance these past few weeks. You seem to have finally developed some focus."

"Thank you, ma'am," Selphie replied, gathering her belongings and walking toward the door.

"I have to ask, though, what brought this on?"

Selphie's spine stiffened. She felt Eir stir, heard the GF mutter something she couldn't make out. She ran through a few excuses in her head before turning to face Dr. Harkinnen with a smile and a shrug. "I just thought, the sooner I learn this stuff, the sooner I can get back to having fun."

Dr. Harkinnen sighed. "I was hoping for a more mature response, Tilmitt, but you aren't wrong. You've improved greatly, and at this pace, you should have only a few more weeks of intense training left." She waved her hand. "You're free to go for today."

Selphie closed the door to Dr. Harkinnen's office behind her and let out the breath she'd been holding. That was close. Of course, she'd never have told Dr. Harkinnen about Eir, but a different answer might have aroused the instructor's suspicions. Selphie decided that she would need to better prepare for questions like that. When she returned to her room, she pulled out her journal and flipped to a blank page in the back. She wrote across the top line, in big bubble letters, "Excuses List." By the time Marcy returned from her classes and Selphie set aside the journal, she'd scribbled down only three good excuses but filled the margins with sixteen butterflies of differing design.

* * *

Spring was coming. Selphie could tell by the different slant of the sunlight streaming through her window, and how it appeared earlier every few days; by the absence of the sting in her nose when she stood outside and breathed in deeply; by the tiny green buds adorning the branches of the spindly little trees near the Garden's entrance. With each passing day, the breezes grew softer and the chill receded from her bones. She had made it through another winter, an easier one, thanks to Eir. In years past, Selphie had spent the season in constant anxiety, lighting every lamp at her disposal in an effort to dispel the darkness. But since Eir had reduced her earliest memories to mere whispers in the back of her mind, Selphie could not remember why she'd felt so apprehensive about winter's long nights. In the absence of that memory, her anxiety melted away, and she realized that the sun hadn't stayed away that long, after all.

The warmer weather had begun melting the snow in the valleys and on the southern coasts of Trabia, revealing soggy earth and shallow lakes, the environment of choice for Bite Bugs. The hatch was particularly large this year, and Selphie and the other students watched the insects with growing anticipation. When the first swarm descended upon Trabia Garden, the students rushed out to meet it. Under Garden's authorization, they would abandon their classes for a week and spread out across the countryside, dispatching Bite Bugs and reaping the rewards.

The annual Bite Bug hunt was a boon for both Garden and its students. The stones taken off Bite Bugs upon their defeat were versatile and valuable as raw materials that could be refined into a variety of spells. As the stones poured in, SeeDs and faculty stockpiled spells; in handing over the stones, students accumulated bonuses to be distributed with their next monthly stipend.

Selphie was caught up in the fervor, tearing through swarm after swarm alongside Marcy and another classmate, noticing an odd sensation in her head after a few battles. She'd felt it once or twice before: a brief, stabbing pain akin to what she'd felt when she'd first junctioned Eir. It didn't last long, and she assumed it was simply a side effect of junctioning a GF. But when she looted the body of her latest kill, she felt the M-Stone Pieces vibrate in her hand. They clicked and clacked against each other, growing warm in her palm and glowing faintly. As she moved to throw them away, Eir called out in her mind.

"Stop!" Eir said. "There is nothing wrong with those stones."

"They're rattling in my hand," Selphie whispered, keeping her head bent close to the dead Bite Bug so Marcy wouldn't see her lips moving. "They're hot."

Eir's presence expanded and contracted in what Selphie interpreted as a sigh. "They're reacting to you, to a power you now possess."

"What are you talking about?"

"In the time we've spent together, I've made several more skills available to you. Unfortunately, you don't seem familiar with even the concept of these skills, and so they have passed beneath your notice. But refinement skills —"

"Selphie, what's taking so long?" Marcy shouted to her from next to another downed Bite Bug. "Is everything okay?"

Selphie waved to her. "I'm fine. Just trying to get as many stones as I can out of this bug."

"Do you need help?" Marcy rose.

"No! I mean, you go on ahead and look for more. I'll catch up."

When all was quiet again, Eir continued speaking. "As I was saying, refinement skills are very rudimentary, and don't require anything other than the knowledge and material."

"So, the stones are glowing because _they_ know that _I_ know how to refine them?"

"Exactly."

"But refine them into _what_?"

Selphie winced as Eir moved about in her mind, obviously frustrated that she'd chosen to ally with such a novice warrior. "Healing spells, revival spells. Look closely at the stones, at the light coming from them."

Selphie did as Eir instructed, and watched as a wisp of light began to move upward from one M-Stone Piece, curling towards her, toward the space between her eyes. When the light made contact with her skin, it was very warm, and that warmth spread inward, until it settled in her brain next to the sensation that was Eir.

 _Five Cure spells._ The thought came to Selphie unbidden, and she blinked and ran through her spell stock. Sure enough, she now had five more Cure spells than before. She looked at her palm; one of the stones had grown cold and brittle, and dissolved into dust when she touched it. She felt Eir nod, and focused on the next stone, and the next. When she dusted the remains of the M-Stone Pieces from her hands, she had fifteen more spells and an enormous sense of accomplishment.

"I did it!" she said, raising her hands and shimmying her shoulders. "I made my own spells! Thank you, Eir!"

"It was my pleasure. I am very glad you are finally able to make use of at least one of my offerings."

"Say ... this refining thing ... It's not just for M-Stone Pieces, right? What else can I refine? What other spells can I make?"

Eir began to settle. "That's something I'll let you discover on your own. It's no fun if I just tell you outright." With that, Eir went silent again.

Selphie stood up and scanned her surroundings. She saw Marcy and some other students battling a swarm just to the east of her, and decided to head west, instead. Since she could make her own healing spells now, she should be fine sneaking off and securing some more stones for her own use. Each step she took away from the others filled her with a greater sense of power, and when a new swarm of Bite Bugs noticed her presence, she dared them to attack. She'd pulled through another winter, and she'd emerged stronger than ever. She had become fearless, and, as far as she was concerned, practically invincible.

She rolled her shoulders, readied her nunchaku, and rushed into the swarm.

* * *

Selphie wrinkled her nose and pushed her bowl of soup away. Two days after treatment, she still wasn't hungry. She'd bitten off more than she could chew with that swarm of Bite Bugs. She'd been doing well until one of them jabbed its stinger deep into her shoulder, sending its venom coursing through her body. She'd managed to finish off the bugs that had attacked her, but then she realized that not only had she thrown all her antidotes into Marcy's satchel to make more room for M-Stone Pieces in her own, she also hadn't foreseen the necessity of carrying any Esuna spells on her. She managed to drag herself back to where the other students were, pausing often and burning through most of the Cure spells she'd just made, before her legs gave out beneath her.

Marcy forced her mouth open and poured in an antidote, then supported her on the walk back to Garden. Selphie spent that night in the infirmary, hooked up to fluids and medicines and subjected to lectures on safety and the dangers of overconfidence from the nurse, the headmaster, and several faculty members.

But worst of all, Garden had collected her entire stash of M-Stone Pieces. Sure, they'd reward her with a hefty bonus on her monthly stipend, but in an area as remote as Trabia, monthly stipends were nearly worthless, good only for stocking up on snacks and maybe some fun notebooks, if Garden had recently acquired any in trade.

Selphie groused about her rotten turn of luck throughout the day and passed her time in class gazing out the window and wondering to what other, more positive, ends she might use Eir's abilities.

She had yet to think of any when she showed up to her outdoor training class several days later. By then, she had fully recovered and her mood had brightened, and when she saw Professor Ratliff stand in front of the students and crack his knuckles, she was determined to take on whatever challenge he had planned.

Professor Ratliff had heard about Selphie's recent exploits, from her sudden improvement in her classes to the incident with the Bite Bugs. He recognized in Selphie's posture the headiness of that first sip of power, and her belief that she was, despite her recent setback, invulnerable. He recognized it and it filled him with a twisted joy, since he had long ago made it his mission to remind students like Selphie that they were, in fact, plenty vulnerable.

"Listen up," he shouted, watching shoulders twitch and heads snap up. "It seems to me that I've been going a little too easy on you recently. Some of you seem to be getting bored." A muffled groan rose among the students, silenced immediately by Professor Ratliff's glare. "And when students get bored, when they get _overconfident_ —" he looked directly at Selphie "— well, that's when things can get real ugly, real quick."

He let his last words hang in the air and scanned the group. Selphie had caught his look and scuffed the toe of her boot into the ground, chewing on her lower lip and glancing every direction but forward.

"So, today, I've got a real challenge for you," Professor Ratliff continued. He held up a dark blue orb that was translucent enough to show fine ribbons of white swirling around inside of it. "This is a little item we call North Wind. It's Trabian air distilled into a pocket-sized trinket, and it's a valuable source of Blizzaga spells for Garden. Now, who can tell me where these little treasures come from?"

Marcy thrust her arm into the air and bounced on her toes, eager to answer the question. She nodded toward Selphie, but when Selphie hesitated, she pulled Selphie's hand into the air, as well.

"Tilmitt!" Professor Ratliff drew out each syllable as a grin spread across his face. "You got the answer?"

Selphie swallowed hard and glared at Marcy. "Yes, sir," she said, facing front again. "The North Wind comes from Snow Lions. It's their most common item."

"Very good! I suppose all you knuckleheads can guess what I'm about to ask you to do. But since this'll be quite a test for a lot of you, I'm going to give you a little treat and let you choose your own teams. Groups of three. Choose wisely, though! The person you chit-chat with over lunch might not be the person who can keep you alive today." He stepped back and watched the students sort themselves.

Marcy latched on to Selphie's arm. "Hey, you have a Limit Break, I don't," she explained. "I'm counting on you to not let me die!"

Selphie smiled. "No problem!" But as she looked up and saw Norwood Lawrence approaching them, her smile faded. "No," she whispered. "Problem!"

When Norwood explained that — for some odd reason — no one had room for him on their team, Marcy relented and allowed him to join theirs. Behind Norwood, Selphie could see the SeeD who had supported them in their earlier session arguing with one of his peers.

"No way," she heard him say, "I'm staying right here. You go with Tilmitt's group."

With an exasperated female SeeD supervising their group, Selphie, Marcy, and Norwood set off in search of a Snow Lion.

* * *

Selphie skidded in the slush, slipping in the mud beneath the snow and landing hard on her backside. Beside her, Marcy swigged a potion and Norwood took aim at the Snow Lion. The subsequent gunshot rang in Selphie's ears and shook the snow from branches overhead. The Snow Lion recoiled, but Norwood's bullet barely bruised the monster's thick hide. Marcy lunged forward with her sword and hacked at the Snow Lion's front leg, in the same place she'd hit before, in the hopes she might eventually cut through to a vein. Selphie rose and flailed at the enemy, her nunchaku connecting with its face, right between its eyes.

The Snow Lion's response to this fruitless assault was to turn around and whip its tail at the party. Norwood caught the brunt of this attack, and it knocked him out. Marcy rushed to his side and administered a phoenix down, while the SeeD stood in the brush at the edge of the clearing and shouted at Selphie to focus.

Selphie scowled. She was _trying_ to focus. But she could feel her stamina decreasing with each passing moment, and desperately searched her brain for new spells, hoping her Limit Break would kick in soon. From the corner of her eye, she saw the Snow Lion move. The creature had been content to sit still and survey the damage it had caused, but now it looked as if it was preparing for another attack. Another, stronger attack.

Finally, different spells began flooding Selphie's mind. She'd just learned the Flare spell last week and figured it would be useful in her current predicament. She sorted through spell after spell, searching for Flare and keeping an eye on the Snow Lion. Suddenly, she felt Eir move inside her head.

"Kindness gives strength to those most vulnerable," Eir whispered.

"What?" Selphie asked aloud. This was no time for Eir to wax philosophical.

"Kindness," Eir repeated. Before Selphie could ask any more questions, an unfamiliar spell slid into her mind. _Full-Cure_. Was this Eir's doing? Was it somehow connected to what she was mumbling about? Selphie glanced at Norwood struggling to his feet, then back at the Snow Lion digging its claws into the thawing earth. She didn't have much time; it was worth a shot.

Hoping to distract the Snow Lion long enough to cast her spell, Selphie hopped forward and rotated her nunchaku in one direction, then the next. Lifting one end of her weapon high above her head, she cast the mysterious spell and hoped for the best. Immediately, heat surged through her body, relaxing her muscles and cauterizing her wounds. She felt her stamina increase, and, by the expressions on her companions' faces, she could tell they were experiencing the same.

This invigorating effect did nothing to stop or mitigate the Snow Lion's attack, but it helped the party withstand it. The Snow Lion charged, knocking them off their feet; they scrambled up quickly, with new determination, and began to bombard the beast with spells. Selphie entered Limit Break status once more, and this time she quickly found the Flare spell she'd originally sought. She cast it twice and the Snow Lion slumped; one bullet later, it was dead.

"Oh my gosh, Selphie, what was that?" Marcy screeched, running over and hugging Selphie. "It was amazing! You saved our lives."

"It was just my Limit Break," Selphie said, shrugging and feeling very important.

"But it healed everything," Norwood said, inspecting himself. "Completely."

"Well, I _can_ cast more than one spell at once."

"Incredible. Thank you very much, Selphie."

"No problem!"

"Hey, we're not here to flap our gums!" The SeeD walked into the clearing and pointed at Marcy and Norwood. "You two, start searching the body. I have a few questions for Tilmitt."

Selphie looked at the SeeD and tried unsuccessfully to suppress her grin.

"Okay, Tilmitt, spill. What was that all about?"

"Like I said, it's just my Limit Break. Nothing special."

"Like hell it isn't." The SeeD pointed to Selphie's knee. "I saw the gash you had on your knee just now. Even with a Curaga, it would've taken a few stitches to completely close. That spell you used practically wiped it away. That is no ordinary magic."

Selphie shrugged again, still too giddy to let the SeeD's suspicions worry her. She knew Eir was somehow responsible for the spell, and she was grateful her innate talent was strange enough to provide a passable excuse.

"You'd better report this to Dr. Harkinnen as soon as we get back to Garden, you hear me? She needs to know about any new developments." The SeeD studied Selphie, then snorted. "Honestly, you _would_ have some freakish kind of Limit Break."

Selphie smirked. "You jealous?" _Oops._ She hadn't meant to say it out loud. Her smirk faded into a sheepish smile and she pulled her head down between her shoulders. The SeeD's eyes narrowed.

"Watch your attitude, Tilmitt," she said. "You won't get very far with one like that."

Marcy and Norwood continued to search the Snow Lion's corpse, pretending not to notice the interaction between Selphie and the SeeD. Selphie joined them, combing through wiry hair and slicing into the monster's flesh in search of a North Wind. Norwood found the first and held it up. Slick with blood and grease, it looked nothing like the item Professor Ratliff had shown them, but it passed the SeeD's inspection. Marcy found a second one, but continued searching yielded no more.

Marcy seemed just as excited as Selphie about what had happened during the battle, and the two of them chatted incessantly on their way back to base. Their high-pitched voices carried through the forest on either side of them and drowned out the sound of snapping branches and heavy breathing that would have alerted them to a new threat.

Norwood sensed it first, stopping and placing a hand to the ground. When Selphie stopped to tell him to hurry up, she felt it too — a deep, rhythmic vibration beneath her feet. Before the students and the SeeD had time to run, another Snow Lion crashed through the trees. The SeeD cursed and stepped aside, readying her weapon should the cadets need assistance.

As the battle wore on, Selphie found that she had expended far too much energy during the first encounter and her subsequent celebration. Her weapon did not connect many times, and when it did, its hits were weak. She and the others tried to wear the creature down with fire spells, but a blast of its icy breath sent them all staggering. Hands on her knees, Selphie felt her Limit Break kick in, but grew frustrated when the spells that came to mind were all of a basic level. She had decided to cast the next spell that came up when Eir's voice cut through her thoughts again.

"Mercy," Eir said.

"Marcy?" Selphie asked, wondering what any of this had to do with her friend.

"Mercy." Eir repeated the word slowly, and just as slowly, another word pushed its way into Selphie's consciousness.

 _Rapture._

Selphie felt her stomach quiver with excitement. Two new spells from Eir in one day! She smiled and repeated her distraction-dance, then let the spell fly.

For an instant, the Snow Lion seemed to glow. The light grew brighter at the animal's back, then erupted into a large pair of wings. The Snow Lion began to panic, scrabbling at the ground, trying to gain traction as the wings lifted him up, higher and higher into the air, above the treetops, where he disappeared in a flash of pink light.

Then, silence. No breeze through the pine boughs, no birds calling to one another, no animals scurrying in the underbrush. Selphie worried she'd lost her hearing, or feared perhaps that time had simply stopped. Both worries were dismissed when she heard her nunchaku hit the ground.

"Oh Eir," she whispered, "what have we done?"

She felt Eir move inside her mind. The GF repeated herself once more, then went still.


End file.
